Darkening Edges
by ShamrockClover
Summary: How did it happen? He could hardly remember. His mind was being invaded with black spots; his thoughts were darkening at the edges. What was he going to do about it? Well, that much he did know... In Kyoya's recovery from a traumatic event lay thoughts and memories that are best left unexplored.


Kyoya sat in the bed, his lower body covered in white, his eyes distant and lacking in colour as they stared unseeing out the hospital window. In his mind he replayed events like a blotchy video tape on repeat. It wasn't of his own accord though; he couldn't stop it, even if he wanted to.

Haruhi had been the first to go. She'd been played with before though, of course. It was something he wasn't surprised by, but also something that disgusted him to the core. She'd suffered the most of them all; and she'd found relief, but not in the way he would've liked. It was too late now though. She was resting, at peace, away from the cruelty of the wicked world in which she'd once lived, where nothing could hurt her ever again.

It was no surprise that Hikaru lost control after that. He grew violent with grief and anguish, blind to what was coming. He'd been too wrapped up in his emotions, too consumed by his rage, that he'd disregarded the desperate warnings of his poor brother. He disobeyed, he rebelled, he _provoked_. He brought it upon himself. There was no room for a defiant hot-head, so he was disposed of without a second thought.

Tamaki seemed to have broken by that point. He'd pleaded and begged for their safe release and he'd been ignored. But he'd always been so persistent. It wasn't appreciated there like back in the Host Club; it was annoying. It was _cheeky, disrespectful -_ and he'd refused to stop. It went against his morals to stop. He showed too much resilience, he showed too much care for them. He was being too hopeful, and it was radiating onto them. That wouldn't do, so to crush them all back down, he was silenced. Permanently.

Mori had followed soon after. He'd been too enraged, too upset, too hard to control. He'd become someone other than himself. Or perhaps, he'd always been that person, but never showed it for the sake of the club and his charge. Where silence became screams and composure became shipwreck, he'd posed too much of a threat. The only logical option was to eliminate him. It hadn't been easy, but just as it had been done before, it was done again.

Soon after, obviously, was Honey. Traumatised by the brutal handling of his close friends, and, in his case, family, he'd fallen into shocked disembodiedment. He didn't respond, he didn't move, he didn't obey. He was disconnected and useless; a mindless, soulless shell. There was no need to keep him around anymore; he was broken, and broken things were thrown away. Honey was thrown away, and he didn't put up a single fight. It was disheartening.

Lastly had been Kaoru. He'd fallen into muteness, running on autopilot - had been since his brother's demise. He'd become a hollow and empty shell as Honey had, yet had retained a sense of reality. Watching him was sad, and it made Kyoya wonder why all of this had even happened to them in the first place. Maybe it was horrible to say, but he was relieved that Kaoru had fallen victim to the abyss. If the police had arrived sooner, he may have been saved, but really, there was nothing left in him worth saving, so perhaps it was for the better.

Kyoya stared out the window, unseeing, with clouded eyes. He was lost in the shrouded, foggy bog-lands of his tired brain. Yes, all of his friends had been viciously slaughtered for no apparent reason. But then again, was there ever a reason for murder? Kyoya didn't like to think so, but at least that thought could occupy his mind for a while. It could float in and out between the breaks of the black, blotted video, acting as an adequate distraction. Maybe.

Kyoya had gotten out unharmed. He'd escaped with his life - the only one. Maybe it was good that it had been him; he was the _cool one_. He was the most likely one to keep a level head and be able to learn to move on. But even so, it was still unfair.

Kyoya contemplated suicide for not the first time. Why should he go on living when his friends no longer waited for him? They got release, why couldn't he? There was nothing in his life worth living for anymore. He _wasn't_ mentally capable of handling living anymore. And he _wasn't_ ever going to be able to move on.

Maybe he should kill himself. Finish the job. He was the last one left after all, what else was he supposed to do; give in to his burning lucidity and avenge his friends by hunting down and killing their killers?

Kyoya blinked. That wasn't a completely insane idea.

Maybe he wasn't so unharmed after all.


End file.
